Written by Ben Snavely

There are opportunities abound here in Guangzhou to help you forget the week that was. There are numerous shopping malls, parks, museums, KTVs, and restaurants galore to name just a few of the myriad of activities you can find throughout this conglomerated and bustling city. After a month or two though, you need something more genuine, a little more real. That’s what my girlfriend, Sue, and I decided one weekend. So one Sunday night after my international football team, The Tavern, played and won our last game of the season, Sue and I headed towards the Guangzhou Railway Station with our previously bought train tickets to Shaoguan. We were headed to the little finger mountains of Nanling National Forest Park where the highest mountain (1902m) in Guangdong is located. The two-hour train ride north to Shaoguan was only the first leg of the journey. Starting at 10 o’clock at night though we were forced to bunker down and take a night’s rest in the town of Shaoguan where we arrived after midnight. Our room was suitable for the purpose. A night of cozy sleep, great water pressure in the bathroom for a refreshing shower, and conveniently located 5 minutes from the bus and train station.

Using our 2009 borrowed Lonely Planet China edition we had read that there were two bus stations heading out to Nanling National Forest Park. This was still a 2-3 hour bus ride west of Shaoguan to a little town called Wuzhishan where currently only one boutique hotel called Orange House is there to serve guests. More are currently being built as we saw once we arrived in the town of about 1,000. After a night’s rest and recuperation in Shaoguan we headed to the bus station closest to the train station on the east side of the river. There we were told that there was no bus to Wuzhishan at this particular station regardless of what Lonely Planet said. We were informed to go to the west bus station where we could hop on a bus passing through Ruyuan and finally arriving at Wuzhishan. For anyone wanting to head to Nanling, there was one local bus going back and forth from Shaoguan to Wuzhishan. We got on the bus around 11:40am and arrived at 3:00pm. On the way there we were greeted with some beautiful sights. Staying in Guangzhou or any major Chinese city too long you will forget how pretty the Chinese landscape really is. There was one extremely beautiful lake just west of Ruyuan that could have been a separate vacation all in itself.

After a little more driving we finally arrived in Wuzhishan. The village is so small that there is no bus station. The bus simply just stops where the morning market is held. I guess you would call this the center of town but there would need to be a town for that statement to stick. Instead it looked like a couple of farmers decided to live next to each other because there was a river nearby and when it’s not harvesting or growing season people need someone other than family to talk to. Being the only foreigners getting off the little bus we were quickly spotted by a self-employed taxi driver that waved us down and offered to take us to our hotel. Not seeing it in the nearby vicinity, we asked for a price and were thrilled to see him only put up 3 fingers and happily accepted. One minute later we were in front of the hotel (it’s a village, remember?). We tried to pay our driver but he quickly realized why we were in town and gave us a map of Nanling park and motioned to us that he could drive us into the park and to the start of the walking trails. We agreed and told him we wanted to get situated at the hotel and eat lunch before we set out to the park.

The room was basic with a TV, three single beds (though we asked for one queen on etrip.com), a water jug with tea included and a hole in the bathroom meant to be a toilet. We set our stuff down, plugged in our electronics to charge, and set out to go find food. We didn’t have to go far since there was only one other restaurant besides our hotel’s, which was about 50 meters away from us. The restaurant was down a stairwell with minimal lighting but the owners greeted us warmly and brought us tea as well as the menu. It had no pictures and we have yet to learn Chinese characters so they just took us to their kitchen and let us point out vegetables and a fish for them to cook. Shortly thereafter, a whole fish in a ginger, garlic, and soy sauce came to our table with a side dish of mushrooms and other assorted vegetables. It was delicious but not cheap. When the bill came it was 98 yuan for the both of us which isn’t terrible at all for what we ate but it wasn’t cheap either. The village was so small that our taxi driver happened to be at the restaurant chatting, eating peanuts and smoking with the owners while we ate. Once we finished he beckoned us to his minivan and off we drove to Nanling National Forest Park for some beautiful respite. First, we had to pay the entry fee, which was 60 yuan for each of us but good for two days’ entry into the park. There are only 4 trails in this park. Getting near dusk we decided on the 6km trail that hugged a small river that carved out a small canyon into the mountains. Our driver dropped us off at the entry point and played charades with us trying to let us know that he would be at the bottom of the trail for us to take us back to our hotel once we finished the easy hike.

Granite steps led us down to the river and this granite pathway would be with us the entire trip. This I complained to Sue about for the first kilometer exclaiming how I wanted to get into nature and instead I was treated to these granite steps with railings blocking any opportunity to be one with nature. Being in Guangzhou there are plenty of parks but, to me, they just feel manufactured and limited. I wanted to break free from man’s control and just frolic in nature away from anything man can claim as his own. That first kilometer of trail really depressed me. It wasn’t a dirt path or just a way in the woods but this huge project and undertaking that kept me away from nature while I was somehow still surrounded by nature. I was baffled by this feeling and why this extravagant undertaking was even there but I realized why later in the trek. Following the river down the mountains my depression slowly slipped away and was replaced with the calming sound of the rushing water, the chirping of birds, and the rustling of trees swaying in the wind. That was real, and once I let myself enjoy the moment and let go of my expectations I started to enjoy myself. The water was crystal clear all the way down to the gravel and sand at the bottom of the riverbed. Numerous waterfalls cascaded down rocky outcrops of limestone as we slowly took it all in and tried our best to take in all the positive energy around us. This two-hour trek was for anyone of any age. It was peaceful, energizing, and restorative for us and I believe anyone willing to get out to this small park nestled in the north of Guangdong just bordering Hunan province would be grateful for the experience.

As we slowly descended further down the mountain, following the bends of the river’s flow, I started to understand the reasoning for the granite walkway. This narrow river had, through millenia, slowly cut through and down into the mountains insides and hollowed out a narrow path, but only for the river we were following. Looking up and out, we were surrounded by vertical cliffs on both sides of us. We were in a ravine and the only reason we had this picturesque opportunity was from the hard and dangerous work done by the builders of this granite walkway. Let’s just say that every step of the way upon this path was a great photo opportunity and the pictures we have now just don’t do justice to the memories forged in my memory. Forget the camera and just enjoy the small amount of time you have here, you’ll thank me later. At the bottom of our finished walk we found our driver patiently waiting in his van. Dusk had settled upon us and we smiled happily to ourselves as he drove us back to our hotel. Getting back to the hotel we started planning for our next day’s expedition. We wanted to try the 18km hike, which goes through a blue fir tree forest that is endemic to China but after he told us his price we didn’t have that kind of cash on us or the fortitude to haggle to a more reasonable price. We told him we just wanted to do the shorter 3 km trek that follows a different river that cuts through the mountain. After about an hour of using Google Translate at our hotel and with the help of the front staff we were able to find a compromise with our driver for the next day’s journey. It was a different journey that had the same feel as the first day. It was similar but yet still different. Different waterfalls, different pathways, different boulders blocking the river’s path but all too similar. Regardless of this feeling it was nice to still be in nature and to get away from the hum of Guangzhou. If I could do it over, I would do both river treks on the same day and use that second day to tackle one of the larger treks. The 28km trek is on the far side of the park where hardly anyone ever frequents and also gives you the opportunity to conquer the tallest mountain in Guangdong at 1902m. If the 28km and 12km trek sounds a little too arduous for you but you still want a minor challenge I would suggest trekking the smaller trails from the bottom and heading uphill. If you want a leisurely stroll while gazing at beautiful scenery then I would start at the top of the mountain and work your way down to the bottom of the trail like we did.

Once we finished, our driver took us back to the hotel where we met some local school children practicing their English on us. That night we had a simple dinner and then walked outside to view the stars and listen to the river meandering by. All in all it was a nice weekend getaway that we would be happy to repeat. We caught the bus that next morning where it originally dropped us off. That morning the little market was bustling with locals shopping for that night’s dinner and people chatting with their neighbors and friends. The drive back was relatively peaceful as was the train ride from Shaoguan to Guangzhou. Arriving in Guangzhou we felt the change of pace and the journey was complete. Nature, exchanged for the hustle and bustle of the city. Trees and open space were replaced with humans abound. Wuzhishan now a distant memory, we were one among many trying to get through the day, already waiting for the next weekend and what opportunities it would bring.

Want to see more and experience more, please visit:  http://www.beingfunchina.com/magazine/the-getgo-vol-15/

Written By Kevin Clare

The festive season is many things. To start with, there is shopping, and purchasing presents. Then there is a holiday somewhere and a seasonal rush of travellers, and to throw complications in, there is inclement weather once in a while to make things all the more interesting. There is also a lot of sweet food, heavy food, various beverages and the ubiquitous Christmas caroling!  So, I count myself lucky…I got into the festive mode in October. I went to the Philippines for the Chinese National Day Holiday, and ticked all the festive boxes listed above, except, I did not wrap any presents. And it didn’t snow, but I am a Southern Hemispherean, so snowy Christmases are unnatural and gloomy in my mind.

The rush of travellers is obvious, as any expat in China would know: If there is a long enough holiday, the expats and well-heeled locals flee the mainland and go all over. Hong Kong Airport was bustling. Inclement weather came in the form of a lingering Typhoon season which kindly delayed flights and made the airports just a little more cosy to add to the festive mood.

Adobo picture The food was festive indeed. Upon asking what the national dish of the Philippines is, I was given “Adobo” as a normal response. It is like any other stew from South East Asia, and sometimes can be jolly nice…but then Sprite, or even Coca Cola is added to the mixture and this lends a rather overpowering sweetness. I did go all out on some Greek food however, and had some shocked expressions from my friends when they saw what happens to a South African boy when he is surrounded by food he last had at home! Greek food picture

Various beverages: it is a well-known fact that the Hong Kong brewed San Miguel is Tsingdao in  a gold can, so the San Miguel there is actually quite a hoppy, fruity and delicious Pilsner which slides down very easily on a hot tropical day! Added to this, the favourable Yuan to Philippine Pesos rate makes it a very good destination for the cocktail swiller.

The shopping was what is to be expected really. Souvenir stalls selling various trinkets. I got to add a few items to my bizarre display cabinet in my lounge when I got back. And then there was the Mall of Asia, which is spacious, but there is a lot more to see in Grandview.

And now to the major hallmark of the approaching festive season: Christmas Carols. It commenced on October the First, upon boarding my Cebu Pacific Flight to Manila, I heard the unmistakable syrupy melody of Boney M blasting out her festive gloop. I thought this was a bit odd, but I had not arrived in Manila yet, where at the airport, they had several different kinds of caroling going in in different sections of the airport. I usually take it for granted that I never have to hear Little Drummer Boy in Panpipe until November at the very earliest.

When I mentioned this worry to a local friend, he remarked: “but it’s a happy time, and we’re happy people, so just get into it.” I must admit, I did like the “Jingle Bell Rock” which was the in between song during a Karaoke Competition I saw there.

And I got into it…well the country. It’s marvelous, and I will go again even if they play nothing but panpipe!

Want to see more and experience more? please visit: http://www.beingfunchina.com/magazine/the-getgo-vol-14/now!

Written By Kerry Naughton

Amsterdam is the largest city and capital of ‘The Netherlands.

What do you think of when you hear the word Amsterdam the first images that flash through your mind are weed and prostitutes. However as I’ve just returned from a trip to Amsterdam, to be honest when I agreed to go there for  a three day girls holiday for my birthday I didn’t know what to expect. Amsterdam is one of the most popular destinations in Europe, receiving more than 4.63 million international visitors annually. The number of visitors has been growing steadily over the past decade.

Is Amsterdam a city cloaked in sleaze? Not at all! Yes there are many “coffee shops” where you can buy weed and space cakes, however there are guidelines on top of the packets their sold in, the coffee shops are relaxed and friendly and scattered all over the centre of the city. The city is clean and full of cyclists and the canal is beautiful. If you visit Amsterdam make sure you get on a boat, there are plenty of tours but we opted for the canal boat bus that allowed us to get on and off when we pleased with the boat dropping us off at tourist sites such as the Van Gogh museum. What makes the canal tours so special is that you get to take in the beautiful architecture that the city inhabits. If you like baroque style check out the royal palace in Dam square, a lot of the architecture you pass on the canal looks heavily influenced by French culture and art deco.

There are so many museums and things to do that it’s very easy for your cash to disappear quickly so take plenty and make sure you take your debit card, however if you stay in the centre (and most of the hotels are situated here) then a lot of the tourist attractions are in walking distance. So which museums to visit? It depends on your taste really, their is ‘The torture museum’ for those who are fans of the macabre, The Rijks museum is currently having a 227 million euro makeover but it’s still open with over 400 masterpieces on  display including Rembrandts ‘Night watch’. There is also a Rembrandt museum. The Van Gogh museum was great and included the famous paintings ‘The sun flower’ and ‘The Bedroom’. For me the highlight of Amsterdam was visiting Anne Franks House, she hid their for two years during world war two, you get to walk through her house and learn her story, be warned it’s quite upsetting seeing the cramped conditions and extreme solitude that the Franks lived in. The museums aren’t free and the price can range from 5-15 euros. So make sure you take enough cash out with you to cover entry costs.

The red-light district is definitely worth a visit just to experience the surrealism of seeing the sex workers sell themselves in their windows with red lights placed above the windows, (hence the name) however it is worth mentioning that you may also pass windows with blue lights, transsexuals inhabit these ones. The district has many bars and boutiques and looks perfectly normal during the day therefore I would recommend visiting it at night, the red light district is also home to ‘The sex museum’. If you have the opportunity visit this city, it has plenty to offer everyone.

Want to see more and experience more? please visit:http://www.beingfunchina.com/magazine/the-getgo-vol-13/now!

By Suzanne Mahadeo

Have you ever felt like a cloud was following you? What about a typhoon…?

A weeklong trip to Hainan, or “China’s Hawaii,” was supposed to be a warm and sunny respite from the cinderblock city of Guangzhou, where Ben and I work and live. But instead of either warm or sunny, our flight into the Meilan International Airport brought with it a typhoon that would flood the capital city of Haikou for the duration of the Chinese National Holiday.

After a nine-hour flight delay blamed on torrential downpours in Hainan, we arrived at Haikou’s Banana International Hostel (equipped with the city’s only pizza oven, a live monkey, and fresh bananas hanging over the check-in counter for the taking), to discover a pool of water on the floor of our room that had collected from the leaky windows. The next morning, I awoke to Chinese chattering coming from the ground floor outside the hostel. I peeked out passed the metal bars of the bathroom window and let out an instinctual “Holy shit…”

The street below was covered in murky, brown water, and people were wading shin-deep through it, carefully and slowly, as the floodwaters crossed their front doors and seeped into their homes. Two toddlers in their underwear were propped up on ten-gallon water bottles to keep dry as their mother rattled something to their father with large hand gestures. A manhole in the middle of this scene bubbled up like a witch’s cauldron, displaying how the underground drainage system had no more room to hold any of the water floating around in the streets.

Normal people might be inclined to stay in their slightly wet hostel room, instead of venturing out into the middle of a flood zone. Anyone who knows us, however, would tell you that we are not normal. We once canoed across the Pukenui Harbor in New Zealand looking for a shipwreck, only to get trapped on the desolated island of Houhora Heads with no other soul in sight while we waited out a winter storm.

 After peering at a map of the hostel’s surrounding area, we rolled up our pant legs, popped open our umbrellas, and took a few slow steps outside. The ground water, meeting my calves, felt warm and slightly tropical. Wading through the water was better than I thought it would be…until I saw something blue and fleshy float right past me.

Gulp…!

It was a rat. A giant rat, at that. Dead and floating along the top of the fourteen-inch deep water covering the concrete road.

I flinched, clenched my teeth, and forged ahead as the rain above pelted my bright pink umbrella I saw a man making his way through the water ahead of us, smartly dressed in his rubber gumboots. I suddenly started missing my gumboots from En Zed.  By the time we hit our first major crosswalk, the water was even deeper and people were tripping over themselves trying to make it across the bathtub of a road. Tuk tuk drivers, motorcyclists and people on bicycles were all partially submerged by the floodwater.

We walked for a while, trying to stand on the tallest things jutting out of the water and snapped photos of people doing their best to get on with their day. I had only seen pictures of flooded streets on the news and found it a bit surreal to be in the middle of a wake as a car drove through the street and created waves around me. Eventually, we made it to a port, which was bleak and ugly, by all objective points of view. As we turned around, hoping to catch a bus and stay out of the rain for a bit, it started to pour even harder. We recognized some German tourists from our hostel and caught a ride into town with them on a local Haikou bus；We felt as though we were going through a carwash as the rain outside assaulted the 37 from every possible direction. As the windshield wipers at the front of the bus cleared a view, it looked as through we were driving through a stream. Eventually, the rain let up and we made it to Holiday Beach.

It was evident as soon as I stepped off the bus and landed in wet tar (that is still stuck to the bottom of my shoes one month later), that this would be no dreamy holiday beach. Approaching the boardwalk, the beach was practically deserted, with wooden chairs and tables overturned and sprawled across the sand bank. A deeper look exposed a frightful sewage drain sticking out of the sand that was uncovered by the waves. As we walked along the seashore, desperately trying to give Haikou a chance to make us feel like we were on some semblance of a relaxing vacation, I looked at what I thought was a blue fish that had washed ashore.

Of course, it was no fish at all. It was a rat. Another giant, dead rat.

We frantically flagged down the first bus that we could back to our hostel and stayed there for the next two days until it was time to check out. Luckily, the pizza there was fresh, hot, and delicious; the hostel had a pool table, chess, beer, guitars, and Steve Carrel DVDs; and the other foreigners who checked in were happy to make conversation to forget about the rain.

Within two days’ time, we had had as much of the pool, pizza, beer, and indoors as we could handle and took the high-speed rail to Wanning, less than two hours’ southeast of Haikou. The highlight of that trip was the outdoor pool, fed by a natural hot springs at the Xinglong Hot Spring Hotel from 4PM until 12AM. Addicted to the absolute luxury of soaking in a naturally fed hot springs swimming pool, I even snuck in when it drizzled, happily turning into a prune before the 8PM outdoor Chinese BBQ dinner at the hotel.

Venturing away from the hotel, we walked until we found an old farm road where only motorcycles, chatty guard dogs, hens, and smiling drunken farmers could fit. It was exactly what we would have wanted to see if we were able to rent a motorbike and drive through the countryside.

Within a few days’ of relaxing in the hot springs, we made our way via bus to “Sunny Sanya.” It wouldn’t be much of a surprise that Sanya wasn’t that sunny during the typhoon. Even in the rain, however, we made it to Yalong Bay, considered the best beach in Hainan.

Due to the heavy rainfall and confusing local construction techniques, the ocean had grabbed sand from underneath the boardwalk, causing the cement to buckle and crumble days before we arrived. We saw huge trucks on the shore digging up sand to replace what had been lost under the walkways.

We had five minutes of sunshine to take a few photos to add some light to our trip, before the floodgates in the sky reopened in Sanya. And luckily, I did not see a single rat there.

Want to see more and experience more? please visit:http://www.beingfunchina.com/magazine/the-getgo-vol-13/now!

Written by Lachlan Cotter

If you can see Chuck Norris, Chuck Norris can see you. If you can’t see Chuck Norris, you may be only seconds away from death.

Chuck Norris Facts

I never really understood the meaning of those words until today. I always thought they were just fable. A story frazzled parents told their kids in order to scare them to sleep. But staring into the steely eyes of a cold-blooded killing machine changes a man.

Yeah, I’ve seen Chuck Norris. Only I’m not talking about the Texas Ranger. I’m talking about Chuck Norris, the 7 foot, 230 pound Sand Tiger Shark at Siam Ocean World—so dubbed by me, in honor of his deathly steel gaze and deadly round-house kicking ability (okay, so I may have made up the part about the round-house).

Alright, I’m exaggerating just a smidge. I’ll be the first to admit—there isn’t any real danger here. It’s a controlled environment inhabited only by non-aggressive (and presumably, well-fed) marine predators.

But it’s not so much about confronting real danger as it is about confronting irrational fear. The fears we all have that keep us from living life to the full. The fears that keep us from expanding to our potential. Those are the fears that need smashing.

Even though when I get on a commercial airliner, I know intellectually that the chances that I’m going to a horrible, fiery death are infintecimal, there’s still a little voice that asks—what if?

And even though I know it would be commercial suicide for a multi-million dollar tourist attraction to offer an experience that had even the slightest chance of resulting in maimed, lacerated tourist corpses, there’s still a little voice that says—but you can never be too sure… (this is Thailand, after all)

So I decided it would be a good idea to bone up on my shark-repellant jujitsu skills—just in case.

The Secret Art of Shaolin Shark Boxing

So what is the recommended course of action should you find yourself the object of unwanted elasmobranch attention? Swift blow to the nose? Preemptive eye gouge? Volley of colorful language?

Most expert advice in this category is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. But for the information of readers here are some emerging themes:

• Don’t panic (in large, friendly letters)
• Get out of the water (counter-intuitive, I know)
• Hit it with whatever you have “on hand”—but preferably not with your hands (since they may be bitten off, I guess—ouch)
• Go for the gills (because the scrotum is harder to locate?)
• Be as aggressive as possible; but don’t provoke it unnecessarily (wait, what?)

But here’s my favorite piece of shark survival advice:

• Don’t bleed

Want to see more and experience more? please visit：http://www.beingfunchina.com/magazine/the-getgo-vol-12/now!

Requiring a break from the Guangzhou city madness, the smog, and general grumpy expressions on the metro and the “Civilised Guangzhou” campaign, which is only annoying people by erecting fences on quiet streets, myself, and a group of friends boarded a bus to Yangshuo. Only five hours away by bus, or nine by sleeper bus, this small pleasant little town nestled on the Li river is packed with activities and distractions to keep one busy for a short break.

One of these activities we chose was to hire bicycles and go to Buddha Cave for a mudbath and hotspring thing so we could exfoliate and then soothe our tired muscles from the arduos 8km cycle (sit in the hot spring and laugh at people slipping on the mud).

So for a mere 50kuai, I was presented with my bike, given a hastily drawn map and we all set off along what we though must be the correct road until taking a right at that roundabout.

All was OK we told ourselves, as the scenery was amazing, we had 500ml of water on our bikes, and we were enjoying being nonchalant tourists looking at the farmers toil in their rice paddies.

We found a river to cross, which could only be done by raft, which costs 10kuai and the entertainment of me almost falling off was free. We then set along on a track which suddenly disappeared into a freshly ploughed rice paddy. We simply turned around and went along another road, by now having given up looking at our map and we were simply following a road and seeing what was going to happen.

We started to come across some small villages. The type where chickens roam the roads and people stare long and hard at you. We also realized that in the heat of the day, our water was running low, so we asked where we could buy some more. Through barely muffled laughter, we were informed that there was no corner shop in this tiny rural village, but we could make use of the communal village pump. Deciding that some rare water borne parasite didn’t need to enter our systems, we asked how to get back to Yangshuo so we could figure out how to get back to the caves. “easy!” said the villager while pointing at the raised expressway in the distance. “Take the big road.”

The big road was beyond a steep hill, and was also raised up very high and fenced off, so us mere cyclists or pedestrians could not use it. We also noted the massive trucks driving down the road in the usual cavalier Chinese manner and decided we needed another alternative. But now it was hot, our water was gone and we were…well, a bit stuck.

Being determined, or stubborn, we soldiered on anyway and went on to see if there was a way onto this road, and all we got for following a path was some shade among some trees and nothing much else.

After looking around, we found a rocky narrow path going nowhere in particular, and we had all fallen grumpily silent due to not being able to find our way, or water or deciding that turning around was not an option.

We happened upon a village and found some locals who vaguely knew where to go, but more importantly they knew where a corner shop was, and we sped towards it to be met by our Angel of the day: a little old granny who had cold bottles of water and insisted we eat some free watermelon and oranges.

Eventually we found the cave and went into the bat infested mud cave for our wallowing session and photo shoot followed by sitting in a hot spring. As “arduous” as our journey was for all of 30 minutes, it is definitely suggested you get lost among the limestone towers around Yangshou…just take enough water.

Want to see more and experience more? please visit：http://www.beingfunchina.com/magazine/the-getgo-vol-12/now!

by Steven Trice

If Stephen King ever wrote a scary tale about China, it might start with a place called Liwan Shopping Center. Tucked away on Shang Xia Jiu Street, a short walk from the Changshou Lu Metro Station, you might find yourself eerily familiar with the possible haunting of ghosts. Streets are densely packed with no escape while moonlight fails to penetrate the shroud of darkening clouds. There are plenty of treats to find along the way, but be careful. There are plenty of tricks as well. If there’s any one place in Guangzhou where your senses go haywire and you get that chilling tickle down your spine, it would be at Liwan.

As many of us have seen the movie Poltergeist, we know the consequences of building something on top of a mass grave. Things pop out of closets, sinister voices are reflected from televisions, and people’s heads turn 360. Now imagine a Chinese version. During Liwan’s mega mall construction, engineers and workers discovered a series of Qing tombs buried underneath. Coffins were unearthed and voices began to whisper, “What have we done?”

Store buyers quickly scattered, fearing a curse, and many wondered what would happen to the mall now. Billions had been spent. They couldn’t just abandon it. So who do you call when ghosts are about? That’s right, the Ghostbusters – at least the Chinese adaption. Authorities called in a Taoist priest to ease the spirits and rid the mall of any ill-harm. He did what he could of course, humming enchantments and burning some incense. But how powerful was he against the myriad ghosts threatening the largest stone and jewelry mall in Guangzhou? Some store owners were satisfied, but the priest did leave with a warning. “No being was to open the coffins for 1000 years. What you have done is irreparable,” he said.

Nowadays, when you venture into Liwan, you don’t find a hustling and bustling mall like Grand View or Tee Mall. You find it barely crawling with shoppers. The 6 floors are echoed with rapping shoes and the clacking of beads. For all its size, the dirt and grime are occupying more space than people. Hallways are thin and low with dim lighting between the cubicle stores. If you’re brave enough to tread down one of them, there’s that sticky feeling of companionship. And not the sort of companion you’re looking for. There come times when your instincts say “Turn around!” and you find nothing but an odd shadow attached to you. Fears and the imagination are only the beginning of your haunting.

If you happen to look up at the top floor and wonder why there aren’t any shops … well, there’s a good reason. Back then, some were non-believers. Some thought ghosts were just little whispers of smoke, not able to do anything but keep children from sleeping at night. But they were wrong. The 5^th floor is the crux of ghost activity. Eight people have fallen to their death from there, leaping off the railings and falling to their doom. Store owners and customers who once walked those corridors have reported odd feelings as well, like something was pushing them toward the railings. Now it’s just a dark pit sealed away from the rest of the mall.

If a movie wasn’t enough to teach people not to build on ancient burial grounds, Liwan Plaza should. If you want to feel the terror of Halloween, maybe buying some stone necklaces should be at the top of your list this year. But for all the bodhisattvas in China, don’t take the elevator to the 5^th floor.

Want to see more and experience more? please visit：http://www.beingfunchina.com/magazine/the-getgo-vol-12/now!

                                                                                                                                                      By Suzanne Mahadeo

I’ll be the first to admit that it was probably my fault. Two Americans venturing off the beaten trail after only a month of being in China wasn’t the brightest idea. But it was my first two days off since arriving at the Guangzhou airport to teach summer school for six hectic days a week. I was armed with desperation to escape the city’s thick air and traffic jams of Audis, Minis, and Mercedes. I began to solicit advice from English and Chinese-speakers alike about where to go to “find nature.” The outlying Hong Kong islands were a repeated suggestion, but out of the question as my first month’s pay had not yet found its way into my bank account.  My helpful boss asked his mate for some advice about where two hippies lost in the city could go for a weekend on the cheap and came back with the suggestion of Zhaoqing.

After a tiny bit of Googling and asking around, Zhaoqing seemed to have what we needed:  it’s 88KM away from Guangzhou and filled with parks, lakes and karst mountains. With borrowed Internet from the Boomerang Bakery in Zhujiang New Town, we excitedly booked two nights at the “Zhaoqing Heijang Peninsula Hotel,” a four-star hotel with a hostel price. We packed our bags, finished up our day of teaching, and took a cab to the train station with our Chinese-speaking South African friend from work. He was on his way to Hong Kong for the weekend and helped us secure our tickets to Zhaoqing.  Parting ways with someone who spoke Chinese may have been where our impending peaceful vacation decided to turn into a disaster.

On the two-hour, 22Y train ride, we taught ourselves how to count from 1-999 and were quite proud of how our Chinese was progressing. We ordered Snow beers from the train cart and waved at the curious toddler who ran up and down the aisle to stare at us for the duration of the trip.  There weren’t any other Westerners headed to Zhaoqing on our train and we may have been a strange sight.

We arrived at the Zhaoqing station after dark and followed the Chinese Exit signs, which we were able to read after seeing it all over the Guangzhou metro stations. The sound of bass and rhymes floated through the clean air and as we came out of the train station we saw dozens of college kids dressed in jeans jamming out in a parking lot. The city smelled of freshness and I was already excited to see it in the daylight.

The first taxi driver we saw walked up to us with a big grin and we happily whipped out the Chinese address for our hotel. He nodded reassuringly, waved us into his taxi, and proceeded to ask us questions in Chinese. He laughed when we said we didn’t understand and then he asked plainly: “American?”  We said yes and I winded down the window to enjoy the fresh, crisp breeze like a house dog let loose for the first time. I could see the silhouette of a lake through the forest trees that lined the winding highway.  My joy was tempered by the concerned look I saw on Ben’s face as he peered at the meter about 10 minutes into the drive. He mentioned that the hotel we had booked should have been south of the train station, but we had been going west since we got into the cab. The sound of a cuckoo sprang up each time the fare increased 5Y and by the time the meter said 88Y we both started to wonder where we were going. We politely coughed up a “Ni How” from the backseat and tapped on the driver’s shoulder a few times. He pulled over at a gas station and we asked how far he was taking us, since our hotel was supposed to be 5 minutes away. He took out a piece of paper and wrote “100KM” and pointed straight ahead. We asked him to wait while we called a Chinese friend from school. We explained the mishap and asked her to tell the driver to turn around. His bellowing voice and large movements in the front seat shook the car as he talked on my phone. He gave us back the phone and before we received the translation, he started the car and started to drive once again. He lit a cigarette and his burning embers blew in the wind from the front seat to the back. He sped up and my friend told me that he was not going to turn around because we were already halfway to our destination, at 36KM, and that it would be “dangerous” to turn around on the highway. She said there was nothing she could do.  We thanked her and hung up, with a sinking feeling that our plan to have a cost-effective weekend getaway was about to be flushed down a squatting toilet.

The meter started to cuckoo every few minutes and before we knew it, our fare had hit 165Y, which would have been the same amount as a train ticket to Hong Kong. We sighed in the backseat, and then started to call other Chinese-speaking friends in the hopes that they could reason with our kidnapping taxi driver. The fare was still climbing as we sped down the desolate highway, with the cuckoo echoing in the car and cigarette ashes falling into my lap…200Y, 250Y, 300Y…no end in sight. I tried to rationalize that a taxi ride in NYC would be this expensive, and then realized that I would never be stuck in a cab with someone who refused to turn around or let me out. A friend suggested we call the police and as I seriously considered it, I saw the sign for the “Heijang Peninsula Hotel” across the bridge. When we pulled up to the hotel, 125KM away from the train station, 1.5 hours after getting off the train, our fare had stretched to an enormous 568Y. The taxi driver frantically puffed on his cigarette as our friend tried to translate for us that our fare was unfair and that we would be happy to negotiate a price that was reasonable for both of us. His English was perfect when we said, “No! 568.” We gave him the full fare, he peeled out of the parking lot, and we wandered into the hotel feeling like we had just been to a funeral.

The lovely women standing at the check-in counter were in an overly giddy mood for the ordeal we had just been through. I would usually find it amusing when pretty girls ask me for something in another language and I don’t understand, but this time, I pointed at my passport and wallet for every question they asked me. Soon enough, the hotel manager came to speak to us in English. We had apparently been driven to a different province in the border county of Fengkai. We really didn’t know where we were, or how we were going to get back.  We asked why the hotel had Zhaoqing in its name if it was so far away from the train station. We were schooled to the fact that Zhaoqing is pretty big.

We received our key, went to our room and tried to put the wallet-gutting experience behind us. Flipping through the hotel’s brochures, we saw that there was the “world’s biggest rock” in Fengkai. It required a taxi to get there, so we skipped that idea.  The hotel itself was built in very recent years and filled with clean, plush carpeting, huge and modern showers, recess lighting, comfortable beds, and flat-screen TVs.  If anyone is ever in Fengkai, I would definitely recommend it.

The next morning, we tried our best to pick around the meat-heavy breakfast at the hotel restaurant and then took a walk around the river of the fisherman’s village outside. The town itself has 10,000 people and it felt a bit like stepping back in time when we saw people dragging nets along the water. There were also great, big, wooden ships lined up against one another, covered in clotheslines and satellite dishes.

After our walk, the hotel staff helped find us a taxi to the bus station and the nice manager of the hotel even drove his motorbike to meet us on his break to make sure we had found the correct bus. Within an hour, we were on a bus back to Guangzhou for 90Y each.

The journey back through Zhaoqing in the daytime allowed us to see why we made the journey in the first place. What I imagine when I picture China’s karst mountains, endless patches of banana trees and long white clouds came to life outside the wide bus windows. For those images alone, I will be heading back to Zhaoqing.
Only this time, I’ll walk to a hotel. Or learn Chinese….